Congrats to all of the new Hall of Fame selections, all of whom—in my not-so-humble opinion—deserve to be in that grand hall so close to where Abner Doubleday did not invent baseball.
Yet our estimable companion Ceeja makes the interesting case that, if Tony Oliva is now in the Hall, Donnie Baseball, our own Don Mattingly, should be there, too.
He has a point. Their stats are almost identical. Donnie played in a more hitting-friendly era—but was a better fielder than Oliva. Tony won three batting titles, Mattingly one—and an MVP. Both men had their careers sadly shortened by injuries.
But riffing off an exchange I had with Kevin yesterday, I would also say that if Jim Kaat is now in, Tommy John—who Kevin nicknames "Surgery," hee-hee—should be honored by the shores of the Glimmerglass as well.
Statistically, they are virtually the same pitcher. Neither was ever quite the very best pitcher in the game, but both were astoundingly long-lasting and productive.
Kitty Kaat—seen here in his Yankees' cup of coffee—pitched in 25 major-league seasons, from 1959-1983, and went 283-237, with a 3.45 ERA, three 20-win seasons, 180 complete games, 31 shutouts, a 1.259 WHIP, and a 3.41 FIP.
John went 288-231 in that time, with a 3.34 ERA, three 20-win seasons (including one in the NL), 162 complete games, 46 shutouts, a 1.283 WHIP, and a 3.38 FIP.
Kaat was a better fielder, winning 16 Gold Gloves.
TJ was the better postseason pitcher, going 6-3 with a 2.65 ERA in October, compared to Kitty's 1-3, 4.01 ERA (though that one win was a complete-game, 5-1 World Series victory over Sandy Koufax).
Both came back—repeatedly—from what looked like career-ending injuries.
That alone probably cost TJ a 300-win career, and an automatic place in the Hall.
Both were incredibly consistent for long stretches of time. From 1962-67, Kaat averaged 17 wins a year.
From 1977-80, John averaged 20 wins a season.
Both suffered other pieces of bad luck that kept them from being seen for as good as they were.
Kaat's best single season was in 1966, when he won 25 games, threw 19 complete games, and might well have won the Cy Young—save for the fact that MLB, in all its wisdom, gave out only one for all of baseball at the time. It went—deservedly—to Koufax. The next year, they changed the rule to give each league its own winner.
TJ's best season was probably 1979, when he went 21-9, 2.96—but lost the Cy Young to a lesser season from Mike Flanagan (though in fairness, Ron Guidry, who missed 20 wins only because he volunteered to go to the bullpen for two weeks after the stupid Goose Gossage-Cliff Johnson brawl, had a better year than both John and Flanagan).
Jim Kaat was en fuego down the stretch in the famous 1967 pennant race, going 7-0 as a starter that September, with 6 complete games including a 10-inning shutout. Next-to-last game of the season up in Boston, he started to breeze through the Sox, striking out 4 in the first two innings in what would have been the pennant-clinching game for the Twins.
Then—a sudden arm injury in the third. So long, Kitty, who was never quite the same pitcher—and so long, Minnesota.
TJ, for his part, beat our boys in one World Series start in 1977, then left a second one after 7 innings with a 3-2 lead, in a contest that would've put the Dodgers up 3 games to 1. But his bullpen blew it—in part to the "Reggie Bump."
In 1981—another truncated season that cost him wins—John looked unbeatable in the World Series, blanking the Bums, 3-0, in Game Two, with a little help from Goose. In Game Six, trying to keep the Yanks alive, he didn't look nearly as formidable, but he was still locked in a 1-1 game after 4 innings—when Bob Lemon decided to pinch-hit for him. The rest is infamy.
In 1982, TJ helped the Angels take the division down the stretch, then won the first game of the ALCS—only to have Gene Mauch, repeating the worst mistakes of his life like a Bernard Malamud character—insist on pitching him on short rest, when he had a game to give. John lost that second start, the Angels lost the pennant.
All of which is to say...Surgery for the Hall! Now!
Everyone should be in the HOF, just like everyone should get a participation award
ReplyDeleteYeah, I know: where does it stop? And should we keep "comparing" guys? Where does that lead?
ReplyDeleteBut I lean more to a generous Hall than a restrictive one...
First, the barn door has been open for a long, long time. Rabbit Maranville has been in the Hall since 1954. Maranville was a fine, feisty little player, but by no standard should he be in the Hall.
ReplyDeleteBut then, what does that even mean? We all think we have a clear mental picture of what being a Hall-of-Famer means. Yet the writers and old-timers were always very generous to guys like Rabbit, who they liked.
Joe Tinker and Johnny Evers are in because a Round Table wit wrote a great poem about them. And on and on.
So what do we do? Purge the dead wood? That seems unnecessarily cruel and insulting....
Bill James had some idea about having a ring of "immortals" or some such, really, really super Hall of Famers.
ReplyDeleteI dunno. I mean the HOF is such a tourist trap in the first place. You know who's not in there? Abner Doubleday, who had absolutely nothing to do with the game of baseball. But the place is in his old home town, mostly on the word of an aged sociopath who murdered his own wife.
What to do?
I say, as in all of life, err on the side of generosity. You pitch 25 years, beat devastating injuries, and would have won over 300 games save for strikes and surgery, you're a Hall of Famer to me.
But hey, let the debate continue. That's the best thing about the Hall with all its flaws. Like baseball itself, it's something to talk about.
With Oliva getting in, then Mattingly, Munson, Guidry and all other players who's careers were cut short for whatever reason should be in. Kaat falls into the Yaz category, long careers with a few good to great years. TJ would certainly be in the group, but are they HOFs? I'd prefer an elite group of stars and then rest would be players of note,
ReplyDeleteDoes everybody already know about Surgery's record for most errors in one play? Not a knock against a HOF bid, of course, just a very funny story. NPR did a great piece on it (including an interview!), but here is another source that came up quicker in my Google search: https://www.mlb.com/cut4/tommy-john-makes-three-errors-on-one-play-during-brewers-yankees-game-c244539480 .
ReplyDeleteReally, you don't think of Yaz as a Hall of Famer? 3,419 hits and 452 homers, led the league in OPS 4 times, won 3 batting titles and a triple crown, 7 Gold Gloves?
ReplyDeleteI think the trouble with this is statistics over time.
Guys like Ruth, Gehrig, Hornsby, Williams, Musial, etc., hit well over .300 long careers. Pitchers like Mathewson, Brown, Alexander, etc., ran up unbelievable stats.
But I think a lot of this is because of the eras they played in. To be sure, Rogers Hornsby would be a great hitter in any time. But it didn't hurt that he played at a time when the entire NL hit .303 one season. As a league...
...Similarly, the case to be made against guys like John and Kaat is that they pitched much of their careers when they were calling the high strike—a huge boon to pitchers. But they adjusted, and were pretty damned good when that changed.
ReplyDeleteI think that's why it should be a constant conversation piece. As Orwell would say, "Some Hall of Famers are more equal than others." But I don't mind seeing most of them there.
Now don't get me started on juicers in the Hall!
HC, Yaz played for 23 yrs. That's 150 hits & 20 hrs average per year. Yes he was great in 67, but I live in NH and watched him play from 72 on. He certainly wasn't a Hall of Famer then. I just don't think longevity makes you a Hall of Famer.
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteSeriously, who gives a fig about the stats? We can argue numbers til we're blue in the face. What really matters is the player's impact on the game. Does his career go above and beyond the normal?
In TJ's case, I think they named something after him, didn't they? I'm trying to recall what it was...
Like Marvin Miller who never stepped between the lines, like Curt Flood refusing to play in Philadelphia, there are players (like Jackie) whose name invokes instant recognition for the impact their participation had on the game; these are the men who deserve a plaque, maybe even a special wing.
MLB is constantly reminding us of our history and yet they do nothing to celebrate the real heroes. They pay lip service and by doing so continue to dishonor the game. MLB paints the glory of old time players who were some of the most vile human beings on the planet, yet they spurn Curt Flood, a guy who should get a day of his own with every delicate multi-millionaire tossing him a birthday party with an annual percentage of their salary.
All this talk of comparative stats is bullshit. Tommy John belongs in the Hall because he, like Curt Flood, was THE pioneer guinea pig. Let the arguments end right there. At least for me anyway.
Ah, me. Here I am having to defend Yaz, a guy I hated and feared growing up—in MA, incidentally, where I saw him play, live and on TV, for ten years.
ReplyDeleteBut here goes.
—In 1962, his second year in the majors, he had 19 HRs, 94 ribbies, and hit .294. Not bad.
—1963, the next season, he led the AL in hits, batting, doubles, walks, and OBP.
—1965, batted .312, led the AL in doubles, OBP, SLG, OPS.
—1966, led the AL in doubles.
—1967, one of the greatest years by any major leaguer, ever. Last triple crown until Juicing Miggy's, led in runs, hits, OPS, SI Sportsman of the year.
—1968, won third batting crown. At only .301—but that tells you how dominant pitching was. Also led in OPS.
—1969. BA slumped, but had 40 HR, 111 RBI.
—1970, hit .329, losing BA crown by one hit. Led AL in OPS, runs, hit 40 homers.
Then came the speed bump. 1971-72 were indeed bad years for Carl. But...
—By 1973, back up to 95 ribbies, .296.
—1974, led AL in runs, hit .301.
Poor 1975. But 1976-77? 102 RBI each year, hit .296 in 1977. 1979, age 39, still hit 21 HRs, 87 ribbies.
By my count, that's 14 very good to great years. And let's not forget that he was one of the best outfielders in the majors in all that time.
Also, lifetime .369/.447/.600/1.047 hitter in 17 postseason games.
But I guess I could quote you stats until the cows come home. You still don't think of that as an HOF performance...
Well, let's look at a previous HOF guy. Maybe...Hack Wilson.
ReplyDeleteLegendary hitter. Lifetime .307 hitter, drove in a record 190 runs in a season. Five fantastic hitting seasons from 1926-30 with the Cubs, and another excellent one with the Dodgers.
And that was it. Despite hitting as high as .356, he never led the NL in batting—never came close. Won 4 HR titles, 1 OPS title—that was it.
Hit .319 in 12 World Series games—but never hit a postseason homer, and made a legendary error. Considered a poor fielder in general.
But—HOF, in 1979.
All I'm saying is, the Hall is littered with guys like that. Their stats look great to us today—until you probe into them a little bit, and compare them to how everybody was doing at the time.
ReplyDeleteIf Yaz is not a Hall of Famer, I dunno who is.
HC66,
ReplyDeleteI hate to be that guy,BUT, I married a farm girl and the cows do not come home, usually,. You send the collie dogs out to get them.
Let the jokes about the farmer's daughter begin, which by the way, is based on urban legends and a healthy does of truth.
Anyhow, its better than thinking of 25 mil-a-year swaggerers and MLB being on life support.
Tommy John deserves to be in the HOF because he had a tendoncy to win.
ReplyDeleteYes, it's painful but kind of funny.
Damn those ungrateful, stray cows!
ReplyDeleteVery funny, JM. And man, he was like a machine at his peak, particularly with that terrific Yankees infield behind him. I remember watching him just mow down the Dodgers in 1981, to put us up, 2-0 in games, and thinking, 'Well, that's that then.' Couldn't believe it when it all fell apart out in LA.
Damn those ungrateful, stray cows!
ReplyDeleteVery funny, JM. And man, he was like a machine at his peak, particularly with that terrific Yankees infield behind him. I remember watching him just mow down the Dodgers in 1981, to put us up, 2-0 in games, and thinking, 'Well, that's that then.' Couldn't believe it when it all fell apart out in LA.